


Cease Fire

by orphan_account



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, future!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas fluff with a pregnant Leslie and lots of whipped cream. Basically a recipe for cavities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cease Fire

“Eggnog without rum is so pointless,” Leslie complained, although it still tasted pretty good. Ben merely grinned at her and poked his head back into the fridge. It was just another small sacrifice she had been forced to adjust to since she’d gotten pregnant. Still, with cinnamon and lots of whipped cream, it wasn’t bad.

“Would it help if I said I got two cans of whipped cream? One’s just for you,” he said when he turned back to her, a can in each hand. Leslie’s eyes lit up and she leaped towards him as gracefully as she could manage, snatching one of the cans with one hand while her other wrapped around his neck as she leaned in to kiss him.

“This is why I love you,” she murmured happily, giggling as she felt him wrap his arms tightly around her. “And I like you.”

“Love you and I like you,” he replied, giving her another kiss before she heard the sound of the whipped cream being uncapped. “Which is why I’m really sorry for what I’m about to do-“

Leslie squealed and tried to wriggle away fast enough, but Ben was faster, and before long a full-blown whipped cream fight was taking place in the kitchen. It was a thrilling battle, with both of them sliding over the hardwood floors in socked feet, and Leslie even with her handicap of a baby bump still managed to get in several good shots.

Eventually Ben’s speed overtook Leslie’s stealth, and she found herself backed up against the fridge, wiping streaks of whipped cream from her face.

“I feel like the Peru/Denmark situation could have been peacefully resolved with a whipped cream war,” she joked as she watched Ben’s finger on the nozzle on the can. “Denmark proposes a cease fire, and then a shower. Peru is welcome to join.”

Normally playing dirty worked. Not this time, though. Ben seemed to consider it for a moment before shaking his head with a grin. “Nah, I think I’d rather spray my wife in the face with this whipped cream and claim this kitchen for Peru.”

His finger moved a fraction of an inch—

“Oh my god,” Leslie froze, her hand flying to her belly. “Ben — Ben, my water just broke.” Her eyes were suddenly wide and panicked, and she tried to calm down. Ben dropped the can onto the floor, the loud clattering seeming to break him from his daze.

“Leslie, oh my god, okay, just… calm down. I’ll get your bag, I’ll call Ann, just try and breathe,” he managed to choke out, and she could see the anxiety and the excitement on his face as he turned to run and get her packed overnight bag from the hall closet.

Leslie had learned from hunting lessons that when you have the perfect target, you don’t hesitate.

Ben skidded to a stop, feet slipping on the floor as the stream of whipped cream hit him straight between his shoulderblades.

“Leslie.” His voice was quiet, and she couldn’t tell if he was furious or trying to hold in his laughter. “That was really dirty, Leslie.”

He turned around to find her still standing in firing position, her eyes twinkling and the empty can of whipped cream aimed at him. As he slowly moved towards her, she held up her hands in surrender, the can dropping to the floor. “I surrender!” she laughed, and then squealed as he scooped her up in his arms before she could protest.

“You just destroyed any chance of Peru reconciling with Denmark, you know,” he told her as he carried her through the hallway and toward the stairs.

“But it’s Christmas,” Leslie said, pulling the Santa hat off of her head and placing it on his. “That’s not the spirit of the holidays!”

In the end, the cease fire was successful, albeit brief.

The shower was not.


End file.
